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Struggling [3]

Golden light bursts forth from the metallic cube as Ben's hand makes contact. Warmth and energy flow into his body like electricity into a wire. Each pulse of divine power reuniting with its owner washes Ben with relief. His eyes sparkle with golden hues as the densely packed divine power in his skull stabilizes.

"Wow. That felt good, but what exactly was that?"

Ben's gaze falls to his hands in the darkness. He can see the outlines of them, and realizes the entire thicket is slowly being illuminated. The sky is turning a blue hue overhead and the sounds of birds chirping break through the chorus of grasshoppers.

~

Sunlight warms Ben's face as he steps out of the forest. He takes a good look at the landscape before him only to feel more lost than before. Mountains wall off the region in all directions. Nature prevails with the exception of those strange metal cubes. There is only a grassland, a forest, some mountains, and a rather large lake.

Considering the lack of roads leading home and the natural barriers surrounding him, Ben decides it'd be best to secure the necessities and wait for rescue. Hopefully if he sets up a signal on the grassland he can survive until a plane spots him.

"I'll start by clothing myself."

Ben isn't sure how to make clothing from scratch, but he assumes he can use natural resources to make something to cover up with. The tall grasses look good for making twine, and the bark from trees look great for covering up. He sets about gathering materials with an optimistic attitude.

~

Hours have passed since Ben had the bright idea to create clothes from the grass and bark surrounding him. Very little progress has been made. The tall grass is weavable, but it takes more effort than expected to create lengths of twine. The bark isn't completely useless, but Ben can't bind the bark to anything successfully.

Eventually Ben decides to settle for one hundred percent grass clothing, and starts braiding twine from tall blades of grass without rest. The result of Ben's efforts eventually yield a flimsy grass loincloth. The garment feels like it might fall apart if he moves too much, but it's a start.

"Now I should try and find something to eat and drink."

Ben's optimism has been doused over the past six hours, but he still wants to survive. With survival in mind he picks himself up and walks toward the lake he spotted a short walk away.

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~

Ben stares into the shallow water beneath him with a sharp gaze. His legs are partially submerged in a flowing stream, and several small fish swim next to him as if he is part of the terrain. Ben holds still long enough for the fish to get comfortable around him before he throws a flimsy grass net into the water.

The majority of the small fish simply swim through the net. Only a pair of rather wide fish get stuck in the fragile fishing net. Ben's eyes widen as he realizes he finally caught something. The two fish are only the size of poker cards, but to Ben they are a feast.

"Thank god... finally!" Ben exclaims.

The two squirming fish gradually suffocate as ben carries them and his grass net from the water. Ben's hunger has grown over the past two hours. Pained rumblings emit from his belly as he brings the two fish up to a flat rock at the edge of the lake. The two fish dry in the sun while Ben contemplates how to cook his meal.

"Should I try using a stick and some bark or something?"

Fire requires heat, and heat can be made with the use of friction. This principle is widely known in the modern world, but actually applying that knowledge to start a fire is another thing entirely.

~

It only took Ben half an hour to create a fire. The twisting of a dry branch on a dry section of bark littered with tinder took him some time to perfect, but through the grueling process of weaving grass Ben has learned patience.

Ben's breath fuels the sparks into a burning flame as he rests small dry sticks onto a pile of shredded tree bark and dry grass. The small branches catch fire after a few moments, and Ben practically shouts at his success.

"Yes! Yes! I'm a genius!"

Hunger and fatigue have brought Ben into a delirious state. He makes sounds resembling that of a primate before leaping upon the rock where he kept his drying fish corpses. His whooping vocalizations quickly peter out into a soft cooing noise as he realizes his fish have been stolen.

Ben's face pales as he lifts his gaze up to meet the eyes of a rather satisfied looking hawk. The hawk is picking at its talons with a smug look in its beady eyes. The creature is unbothered by Ben's staring, and doesn't pay him any heed even as he begins hurling insults.

"Stupid bird... I'll just have to catch some more." Ben mutters to himself.

With that said Ben stomps his way over to the stream feeding into the lake, and waits for the fish to gather around him. His heavy steps have kicked up silt and spooked the small fish so much that he is forced to wait far longer for them to gather around him.

~

The sun is setting when Ben finally bites into a freshly cooked fish. The scales and skin go unnoticed by the starving man as he eats with reckless abandon. The sounds of grasshoppers chirping mix with the quiet crackling of Ben's fire as he eats his fill.

Eventually Ben swallows the last of his fish. The day has been long and hard, but he successfully secured something to eat. The need for drinking water was resolved without issue; The lake is fed by streams made up of crystal clear water.

"Where am I going to find shelter?"

Ben sighs as he contemplates making a house entirely out of woven grass. He quickly dismisses the idea as nonsense. He lays himself down on the sand beside the lake, and shuts his eyes. Ben's consciousness slowly recedes as the day's labor catches up to him.